


This Changes Everything

by Vera_dAuriac



Series: Bright College Years [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Party, F/M, Hooking up, Mid 90s, Sex, Yale - Freeform, academic espionage, bi!Ben, mentioned Peggy/Andre, past Benjamin Tallmadge/Nathan Hale - Freeform, romanticized smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: Peggy Shippen is a Yale grad student in the English Department on a mission to spy for her lover, Columbia English Department Chair, John Andre. Ben Tallmadge gets caught in the cross fire...but he doesn't seem to mind.





	This Changes Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own these people, etc. See the end for substantive notes.
> 
> ETA: Chronologically this happens after "An Unexpected Night," but you do not need to read anything else in this series to read this fic.

**by Vera d’Auriac**

 

B.A. might be the dumbest man to ever receive the title “Doctor.” And as close as Peggy was to earning her own PhD, she knew more than a few folks with a doctorate, the number of whom the average person outside of academia would be shocked to know were utter dolts. Dr. Benedict Arnold, however, was a special kind of stupid. A narcissistic braggart (not unusual in her experience for faculty at any university), B.A. also managed to be mean and petty (also not unheard of), as well as cruel, dishonest, and a complete intellectual fraud. It had taken Peggy less than a year to uncover that B.A. had plagiarized a section of his dissertation, a fact she tucked away for a rainy day. He schmoozed his way into chapters of textbooks his friends were editing, and wink-wink, nudge-nudged his way into almost enough supposedly blind peer review journals that he might actually make tenure. He also asked her enough pointed questions about her own research that he tried to pass off as just being a good advisor, that she zealously protected her best ideas from him.

Her best ideas she saved for John.

When she came to Yale for her PhD, she had been on a double mission—to get a PhD (obviously) and to root out the best minds and research for Dr. John Andre. John had started as merely her undergrad advisor at Columbia, but before she graduated, he had also become her lover. Ethically, they knew they ought not to, and with Peggy’s overprotective and snobbish father on the school’s Board, their liaison could spell disaster for John more than the average professor/undergrad relationship. But they had been discreet for the simple fact they enjoyed fucking each other far too much to risk screwing it and their futures completely up. She had been considering the unorthodox step of remaining at Columbia for grad school, but John had encouraged her to look elsewhere. Long term, it would be better for her to have multiple swanky Ivy League schools on her resume, and in a field like English, that might be the difference between no job and clawing for an interview at East Podunk We Barely Qualify as a Four Year College College. Also, going to another school meant she could act as his spy.

She had applied to all the Ivies, Berkeley, and the University of Chicago. She’d been accepted to three schools (Yale, Brown, and Duke which had been a safety she’d forgotten she’d bothered with), and finally decided on Yale because it would be a simple train ride into the city to see John. Before arriving, she had scoped out the faculty, knowing that John most prized Early Modern scholarship. (“I have _Beowulf_ and Jane Austen vomiting all over me. Find me something in between.”) She had narrowed down her interest to Arnold and Dr. Charles Lee, but it had taken meeting both men in person to decide on B.A. as her target. Lee was cold and dull, and if he had an idea, original or otherwise, she never heard about it. B.A., on the other hand, certainly believed he had ideas, and like the proverbial blind squirrel, he might accidentally land on one. More likely, as a charismatic asshole, he might attract a student who had original ideas, and as his TA, she would know about it.

And this is where she had proven so very right in her choice of target. And why she tugged her square-necked, skin-tight red shirt a little lower as Ben Tallmadge came through the door of the faculty Christmas party. She glanced down, more than a full inch of cleavage showing to advantage, and put her sliest smile on before heading toward her quarry for the night.

“Ben! So glad you could make it!” She tucked in her chin so she would have to peer up at him from under fluttering eyelashes. She rested her hand on the forearm of his snowy parka. “Has it really started snowing?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty light right now, but I don’t mind. I like the snow.” He awkwardly moved the bottle from his right hand to the left and back.

“Let me take that so you can get your coat off,” she offered, taking the bottle in its shiny red bag from him. She peeked inside while he shrugged out of his coat and she tried not to frown too much, but it was pretty impossible not to.

“Oh God. Did I get the wrong thing?” Ben asked, folding his coat over his arm. “I’m terrible with wine, but I thought Madeira would be apt. Everybody drank it in the Eighteenth Century, right?”

Peggy swapped him the bottle for his coat, and she hung it up in the closet she’d insisted this afternoon B.A. empty out so his guests would have somewhere to put their coats. “Madeira isn’t the problem. I think it’s rather clever of you, actually.” (She did not.) “But B.A. rarely drinks wine. He sticks to vodka mostly. I got him a bottle of Belvedere, a new Polish import, but honestly, Stoli would have been good enough.”

“I had no idea.” Ben’s pretty little mouth hung open while his cheeks grew pinker than they had already been from the cold. It was really rather adorable. She suspected she wouldn’t mind tonight too much if she needed to move beyond just flirting.

Peggy stepped closer, putting a hand on his shoulder so that she might pull him down and she could whisper in his ear. “Seeing as how I’m the one who got you invited, I really ought to have told you. But also seeing as how I’m the one who will be writing the thank you cards, I’ll just switch your card with Dr. Lee’s bottle of Kettle One, and B.A. will think you’re his brightest student, which wouldn’t be far from the truth.”

Ben blushed even more, and if she were into innocent young men, she would be utterly captivated at this point. But she preferred maturity and talent, and besides, she wasn’t the one who had to have her panties in a bunch—Ben did.

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

Peggy laughed. “I give you a backhanded compliment, and you tell me I don’t have to be nice to you? Oh Ben, you’re really too cute.”

“Backhanded?”

“I said calling you Dr. Arnold’s brightest student wouldn’t be _far_ from the truth. Don’t you want to know why you _aren’t_ _the_ brightest? Who has beat you to that spot?”

Ben laughed and shook his head. “I’m sure he has dozens of students smarter than me.”

“You forget—as his TA I know all of his students, and I promise you, most of them make Wonder Bread look original. So, I suppose your bar is set rather low.”

“Very kind of you, I’m sure,” he said, a wide smile spreading his lips.

“Well, you were there, too. God. You have no idea how glad I am the Shakespeare Histories class is over. You were the only person in your section I never wanted to bitch slap.” It was entirely true—Peggy had handled two discussion sections for B.A.’s Histories lecture class, and Ben could not have stood out more. Granted, the shocking incompetence of his peers to say anything they hadn’t read somewhere else first certainly helped him look good, but Ben would have shone in any class. His _Coriolanus_ paper was the best she’d ever read on the play, and that included peer reviewed journals.

“That is high praise indeed coming from Arnold’s brightest student.”

“Ah! You figured out who beat you for the top spot at last.” She squeezed his arm and laughed and began steering him through the party in the direction of the kitchen. When she had arrived in the afternoon to begin making the house presentable for the party, she had put an extra leaf in the table for all the bottles of booze she was certain the guests would bring. She would head there and swap out Ben and Lee’s tags and find something stiff for them to share.  

On the way, she smiled at some of the other guests—members of the English Department and grad students like herself, but no other undergrads. She wondered if Ben would realize the honor he had been afforded? Probably not. He was innocence personified, a sweet boy who was so happy to be with the grownups it would never dawn on him that he had bounded over all of his peers in order to be here. She wondered how long it would take him in academia to have that sort of nonsense beat out of him.

“Tallmadge! Good to see you,” B.A. said, sauntering up, the crowd graciously parting for the host.

“Thank you for having me,” Ben said with a wide smile, and Peggy thought it remarkably adorable how much he clearly meant it.

They talked about how glad they were the semester was just about over and the weather, and she smiled along with them, but it wasn’t until they started talking about their plans for over break that Peggy saw her opening. “I’ll probably spend some time in the city with my brother and best friend,” Ben said.

“Your brother is at Columbia, right?” she asked, knowing full well he was not.

“No. NYU.”

“Really? I thought for certain he was. Maybe he should be.” They all laughed and Peggy added, “You know, you should be, too. I mean for grad school. Not now. Columbia that is. Not NYU.”

“You have to watch out for her, Tallmadge,” B.A. said in a ridiculously conspiratorial tone. “Peggy is zealously biased in favor of her alma mater.”

“It’s a lovely school,” she smiled. “Have you thought about where you’re going to apply for grad school?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably the way a lot of undergrads did when they found themselves half way through junior year and grad school applications loomed not far over the horizon alongside their senior thesis and requirements they meant to get out of the way sometime “later.” “A little,” he said. “Probably Harvard and Princeton. Sorry, but I hadn’t been considering Columbia. I really think I want to focus on Eighteenth Century, and—“

B.A. laughed uncomfortably loud, and Peggy wished she might slip into some parallel dimension where she could give him the swift kick to the balls he deserved. “I’m stepping out of the conversation right now. You two have a nice night.”  He leered at Peggy and slapped Ben on the back before wandering off into the crowd.

“I’m sorry. You aren’t offended, are you?” Ben asked.

Peggy smiled and slipped her hand around his arm again. The lack of topnotch professors covering early modern (other than Shakespeare, John’s specialty) was exactly the problem John was having and she was supposed to be helping him fix. But the night was still young, and she had only begun using her varied arsenal. “Not a bit. I’m even still willing to help you with your present. Let’s get to the kitchen.”

When they entered the kitchen, Bradford was talking to Lee’s other new TA, whose name she could never remember. They were drinking some of the wine Arnold wouldn’t want, which would work out happily for everyone.

“Well, hello,” Bradford said with a leer at her cleavage. “Oh, Tallmadge.”

Ben waved awkwardly, which didn’t surprise her when she recalled what she’d heard about the argument they had gotten into during the section Bradford led for Lee’s Nineteenth Century British novel lecture. The way her friend Abigail, who was in the same section related it, Ben had made Bradford look like an ignorant jackass he when they discussed historical points in _Vanity Fair_.

“Anyway,” Bradford said to the other TA as he steered him through the door at the far end of the kitchen, “as I was saying, once you realize Satan is the protagonist of _Paradise Lost_ , it changes everything.”

Peggy snorted so forcefully, she nearly knocked the bottle of Madeira out of Ben’s hand, since she was, naturally, still holding his arm. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he actually tells people that story! I nearly died of embarrassment when it happened!”

“What story is that?” Ben asked, setting his silly wine down on the last sliver of available table.

“It was just awful!” she began, diving under the table where she had stashed the better bottles. She grabbed Lee’s as well as a scotch she thought Ben might like. “You said you don’t know wine, so what do you drink?”

“Kind of whatever. I’m not picky. Last drink I had was a cheap pitcher of beer at Yorkside, and that was fine with me.”

Peggy didn’t know which she found more appalling—cheap beer by the pitcher or Yorkside pizza when Pepe’s was available. Fuck, even Sally’s would be better, but she tried to remind herself not to be a complete snob and remember some people had a budget. “Well,” she said, emerging from under the table with a bottle of Ardbeg Ben would never come close to appreciating, “I drink scotch, and if you want to hear the Bradford story, you’re going to have to try it.”

Ben spun around to the counter and snatched up a couple of glasses, which he held out in presentation to her. “Oh, wait. Should I get ice?”

“I like you Ben, but if you ever say that again, I will likely become homicidal.”

“Neat then.” He nodded, trying to make it appear as though he was marking this down as a great learning experience. He ruined it—or, in point of fact, made it delightfully endearing—by his inability to keep a straight face. “Sorry. I’m a complete ass. I’d love some scotch and a story about _Paradise Lost_.”

Peggy opened the bottle. “Very well then. It happened in Gates’s Milton seminar our first semester here.”

***

Ben decided that he loved scotch. He _really_ loved it. The way it smelled and made him warm. And he especially loved that it made Peggy lean against him on the couch after she’d had a few glasses. She was so pretty with her curly blonde hair and perfect skin. And he was certain that if he were a bit more sober, he could think of some Eighteenth Century poet who would do her eyes justice. She made him think about the fact he hadn’t been with a woman since high school, and he hadn’t been with anyone at all since Nathan decided to leave school and join the Army over the summer. But the way Peggy’s fingertips danced across the back of his hand every time he lit one of her Nat Sherman’s made him think it was time to change both of those things.

But just as he was about to make his well-planned move to tuck a ringlet of hair behind her ear and ask if she wouldn’t like to leave, a skinny and rather pretty boy plopped down on the couch on Peggy’s other side. Ben had no idea who he was—even if he didn’t know their names, he thought he knew everyone in the English department by sight. But this guy in the white V-neck t-shirt and immaculate, close-fitting jeans was someone Ben was sure he would remember.

“You have scotch and you haven’t been sharing with me?” he said, sliding Peggy’s glass from her hand and drinking. “I thought you cared more about me, Peggy. This really stings.”

“Freddy! What are you doing here?” Peggy laughed. She kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his cheek. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t been invited to the English faculty Christmas party.”

“And why on earth would I not be invited to such a glorious soiree?” He gestured to Dr. Arnold’s very full front parlor and other nearby rooms the guests had spilled into.

“Oh, I don’t know, Freddy. Maybe because you aren’t in the English department?”

“A trifle.” He leaned close to Peggy and reached over her lap to rest his hand on Ben’s thigh. “You won’t give me away, will you?”

“Um, no.”

Peggy giggled and smacked Freddy’s hand, which he didn’t bother to move. “Good grief, let me introduce the two of you. Ben, this is my friend Freddy. He’s a theater grad student. Freddy, this is Ben, the only really bright undergrad in the English department.”

Without even thinking about the hand lingering on his thigh or the fact Freddy had crashed the party, Ben blurted out, “Have you taken anything from Dr. Washington? His work in Eighteenth Century theater is unparalleled. I’m going to be in his seminar next semester.”

“I avoid G-Wash like the plague. Man is demanding in the extreme.” Without pausing for even a beat, he held the glass up to Peggy. “More darling.”

Peggy picked up Freddy’s hand from Ben’s thigh and dropped it in his own lap. “Just because you can’t live up to Washington’s standards doesn’t mean Ben won’t. He’s much smarter than you.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt,” Freddy said. Ben couldn’t guess if he was smiling at his answer of the fact Peggy had refilled his glass. He took a long drink before setting it down on the coffee table in front of them next to Peggy’s cigarettes. He opened the box and took a blue and a purple, slipping both between his full, shiny lips. “You do smoke, don’t you Ben?”

“Sometimes,” he answered, happy to smoke socially.

And then Freddy lit both and handed one to Ben while the other remained clutched in his mouth. Ben took the cigarette, and the intense way Freddy looked at him made it impossible to turn away. Freddy took a long drag, removed the cigarette, and blew a stream of smoke directly in Ben’s face.

Ben blinked a few times, confused, while Peggy clapped her hands. “My very own Bette Davis. Aren’t you adorable.”

“I’m completely lost,” said Ben, finally putting his own smoke to his lips.

“You’ve never seen _Now, Voyager_?” Peggy asked.

While Ben was still in the process of shaking his head, Freddy began to explain. “Bette Davis falls in love with Paul Henried.”

Ben’s confusion must have shown on his face, because Peggy added, “Ingrid Bergman’s husband in _Casablanca_.”

“That guy. Right. So, Bette Davis is in love with him,” Ben said.

“But he’s married,” Peggy explained. “And they cannot consummate their love.”

“So instead of fucking, he lights two cigarettes at the same time and passes one to her.” Freddy reached out and cupped Ben’s cheek. His hand was cool from holding the glass of scotch and his touch was light. “And they look longingly at each other while they blow smoke in each other’s face.”

“It’s the most romantic thing ever,” Peggy added.

“Then I’m honored to have had smoke blown in my face,” said Ben.

“Oh, he’s perfect!” Freddy smiled and patted Ben’s cheek.

“Yes, he is. Now hands off,” Peggy told Freddy with a smack to his gut.

They were all laughing, and with the amount of scotch Ben had consumed, it took a moment for the full implication of what Peggy had just said to register. Actually, he wasn’t positive he could say that it completely did before Peggy took his glass and finished it, dropping it on the table and picking up her smokes. Had she just accused Freddy of flirting and—

“I’m sorry, Freddy, but we have to go.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Try not to cause a scandal.”

“A scandal is the best thing that could happen to this party.” He returned the kiss and jumped up to offer her a hand up off the couch, but he suddenly lost all interest in helping Peggy up when he noticed something across the room. “Oh wait. You didn’t tell me Gil would be here.”

Peggy turned around to look over her shoulder and Ben checked in the same direction. They were all staring at Gilbert Lafayette, a new grad student this semester from France that pretty much everyone, man, woman, and professor, had taken some sort of interest in. He was lovely and funny, and judging by the look in Freddy’s eyes, about to be devoured if he didn’t watch himself.

“Don’t break him, or it will go ill for you,” Peggy said softly. “I hear he’s friendly with Washington’s TA, and you can’t avoid all of his classes forever.”

“I am sick of Hamilton claiming all the pretty ones,” Freddy harrumphed. “Is it serious? I bet it’s not serious.”

“Just be careful, darling.” Peggy patted Freddy’s arm once more. “We’re off.”

Freddy pulled her into a swift hug. “I am always careful. And you!” he said to Ben as he released Peggy. “It has been a pleasure.” He gave Ben a kiss on the mouth—brief and chaste to be sure, but on the lips. Ben tried not to look shocked, as though he was used to strange men kissing him. “When she’s done with you, give me a call.”

Peggy slipped an arm through Ben’s. “You didn’t give him your number, and I promise you, I won’t be passing it along.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Peggy Shippen!” Freddy called to their backs, but Peggy just gave him a dismissive wave over her shoulder.

***

“I hope you don’t mind about Freddy,” Peggy said when they hit the sidewalk outside of Dr. Arnold’s.

Ben shrugged. “He’s fine. Seems like a handful, though.”

Peggy chuckled, and Ben liked the sound, and he wondered how he might make her do it again. He had always liked her, and anyone with eyes would think she was beautiful. That was actually what made him hesitate. What would a woman as beautiful and smart as her want to do with an awkward undergrad who hadn’t done more than share a couple drunk kisses with a woman in three years? Maybe he should have been more enthusiastic about Freddy’s flirtations. Ben was certain he remembered how to give a proper blowjob.

“Freddy is a handful on the best of days. He seems to like you, though.”

“He strikes me as the type who just likes people.”

“To an extent.” She snorted a bit, but it wasn’t quite the delightful chuckle from earlier. “But he definitely likes you more than most. He’s incredibly forward, but he doesn’t kiss just anyone.”

“In that case, I’m flattered.”

Peggy took her Nat Sherman’s from the pocket of her wool pea coat. She placed one between her lips and flicked the lighter, but it didn’t take. She stopped walking and cupped her hand around the lighter and the end of the cigarette, but the wind blew it out again. Ben added his hands around the end of the smoke and blocked the wind with his body. This time the flame held.

“Thank you,” she said, exhaling. “Do you want one?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She took out another, which she slipped in her mouth and used the other smoke to light it. She passed the original cigarette to Ben. “If I’d known you smoked, I would have been sharing all night.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said as they started back up, heading toward campus. “I only smoke occasionally, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Lucky you! Keep it that way. I’m a fiend.”

They walked along in comfortable quiet, smoking for the rest of the block. There had been no discussion about where exactly they were headed, and Ben wondered if he should suggest his room or maybe some pizza or a bar. Before he could decide which might be most likely to succeed, Peggy asked, “Are you gay?”

Ben coughed and took the smoke from his mouth. Peggy smacked him on his back, which he didn’t feel much through his parka, and she apologized. “That was rude. Forget I said anything. You just seemed so nonplussed when Freddy kissed you, but, if I’m not mistaken, you’d been flirting with me all night, so I wondered. You don’t need to answer.”

“No, it’s okay. I just hadn’t expected the question. So, um, yeah, I guess I’m bi,” he said, still not entirely comfortable answering the question, even though he felt comfortable with the fact of it. “I dated girls in high school, and I still find women attractive, but I’ve mostly been with men since I got here.”

“And do you prefer men?”

Ben heard no ill intent in her query, and he didn’t mind answering, except for the fact that he never quite knew how to answer this question. “I don’t know. I think I just prefer specific people, and lately those people have been male.” He took a drag and looked at Peggy from the corner of his eye. “But that might be changing.”

She grinned, but said nothing for another block. The snow was falling softly and the streets looked beautiful. He would be happy to wander all over New Haven with Peggy all night if that’s what she wanted. But he did worry, because their course seemed to be taking them to the Hall of Graduate Studies where he assumed she lived. He wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

“You’re planning to do your senior thesis on _Cato_ , aren’t you?”

Ben hadn’t expected the question, but he answered quickly, this a topic he actually felt comfortable discussing with pretty much anyone—fellow students, his family, random people at the drug store. “Yeah. There are these great themes of filial love I want to explore.” And he was off, rambling about Cato’s relationships with his biological children, Juba, and the people of Rome. Peggy lit them more cigarettes, and he dove into some of the research he’d been doing. “Hey, do you think Dr. Arnold would want to be my advisor?” he asked when he flicked his smoke onto the top of a snowy trashcan.

And there was that great chuckle again, but he couldn’t see what he’d said that was so funny.

“I think he would be mortally offended if you asked anyone else.” She twisted the last bit of fire and tobacco from the end of her cigarette, which sizzled and went out in the snow before sticking the butt in her pocket. “Have you seen the new Canfield and Payne collection?”

“No. Anything interesting?”

Peggy shrugged. “Honestly, it’s fine, but B.A. knows Canfield and he’s a big fan. You should read them.”

“I’ll swing by the library in the morning.”

“Don’t bother,” she sighed. “B.A. has it checked out, and I don’t know if he ever plans to take it back. But I have a copy in my room, if you want to come borrow it.”

He cleared his throat trying not to sound like he was clearing his throat. “Yeah. That would be great, if you don’t think you’ll need it any time soon.” He shoved his hands into his pockets in a hope it made him look casual.

Peggy shrugged, and as they walked, she seemed to have moved closer to brush his arm with every other step. “I can do without it. And if I need to look something up, I know which pile B.A. keeps it in at his office.” She slipped her arm through his and quickened their pace. “It’s really freezing. But I’m sure I’ve got a bottle of something to warm us up.”

Ben didn’t argue. In fact, he just didn’t speak, he was so overwhelmed at what might be about to happen. He was pretty sure he still had a condom in his wallet Caleb had given him this past summer the night they got completely wasted after Nathan said he was leaving school and Ben. “You’ll get lucky again someday, Tallboy. Don’t let the lack of one of these change your luck.” Yes, he was ready for this. Sort of.

They reached the Hall of Graduate Studies pretty quickly and Peggy had to let go of his arm to grab her keycard and swipe them in. “So, I’m only on the second floor,” she said once they made it inside and she started shaking the snow off herself. “Stairs? Or are you feeling lazy and want to use the elevator?”

“When you put it like that,” he said, brushing snow out of his hair, “I think I’ll vote for stairs.”

She chuckled again, and he melted faster than the snow pooling on the floor. “Come on then.” She shoved her gloves into her pockets and offered him her hand. He took it, at first just gently, but when she squeezed, he clutched it tightly back as she used it to pull him toward the stairs. Laughing, she raced up the first set of steps, and at the landing where they needed to turn to finish climbing to the next floor, she tried to pull him along, but he couldn’t wait any longer for locked doors and privacy, let alone a drink to warm him up. He yanked her into a corner, pushing her back against the wall and pressing his body to hers. She didn’t hesitate to meet his lips in a kiss.

Her mouth was soft and warm and everything he wanted it to be. Pushing their bodies together harder, he tilted his head a bit, and she took it as an invitation to send her tongue exploring every corner of his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding a hand into her thick hair and using it to push their faces harder together. He wanted to devour her here in the stairway.

But she pulled back, panting, looking up at him with her glittering blue eyes, so mischievous and near his own. “We’re almost there, Ben. I promise my room is far more comfortable than the stairway.”

“Are you sure?” he asked before kissing her once more.

She briefly returned the kiss, but then she pushed him playfully away. “Quite. Now, up the steps with you.” She made a shooing gesture, and he had no choice but to start up the stairs, hoping she was following. “Mm, yes. That was a good decision.”

“What was?” He turned when he reached the top of the stairs, watching her grin as she slowly finished climbing. Her face glowed with exertion and the warmth of coming indoors on a snowy night. And now she was undoing the buttons on her pea coat as though she was as anxious to be out of it once they got into her room as he was to get her out of it.

“Having you walk in front of me,” she answered when she made it to the top and brushed by him. As she passed and before he might turn to follow her, she slapped his ass. “You’re a very good looking man, Ben Tallmadge, front and back.”

“One might say the same about you.” He spun so that he could curve his body as closely to hers as he might while still letting them both walk.

She snorted. “Really? I never thought I was particularly masculine in appearance.”

“Very funny.” He kissed the back of her head, her cascade of golden curls one of the most feminine things he had ever seen. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t remember what. “Isn’t there a book where a guy goes on and on about a woman’s blonde hair falling all around them?”

“I think there are several dozen books that match that description and just as many poems,” she laughed as she reached her door and put a key in the lock.

“No, it’s like a metaphor or something—her feminine beauty surrounding him and healing him or something.”

She pushed the door open with an extremely satisfying click. “If the brightest undergrad in the English department can’t remember, there’s no hope for me.”

Ben licked his lips and followed her inside. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter.”

***

She let him kiss her again as soon as she had the door closed, which was hardly an imposition, since she rather enjoyed the eager, boyish way he kissed. Once he had told her more about his _Cato_ thesis, she had decided that she should sleep with him tonight. If she failed to woo Ben for Columbia, she really ought to turn her attention full time to B.A., which frankly made her stomach churn. She had delicately pointed out to him that few new professors made tenure at their first job in the Ivy League and suggested he start looking at what other schools would be hiring for the next academic year, but the man had the most overinflated sense of self she had ever been unfortunate to run across. Not that she wanted him at Columbia working for John, but she knew he wanted to sleep with her and he would be willing to steal Ben’s _Cato_ research. If she couldn’t convince Ben to take his brilliant ideas to Columbia, B.A. would be the next best thing, but she really would rather it be Ben.

“Did you want a drink,” she asked, pulling away from him a bit and panting.

“Not really. Unless you want one.”

Adorable, really. She slipped off her coat and draped it over a chair near the door, before peeling his off and laying it over top. Suddenly quite interested in what Ben might look like without a shirt, she pressed her palms hard against his chest and rubbed up and down. “So, you’re interested in what I want, are you?”

“More than anything.”

Judging by the bulge in his jeans, the size of which she quite approved, she thought this might be something of an exaggeration, but it was impolite to be picky in such circumstances. “If that’s true, kick off your wet shoes and come to the bedroom.” She swiftly yanked off her ankle boots, which had no buttons or zippers, and she had worn specifically because they were so easy to remove. He watched a bit stunned, his fingers having knotted his laces instead of loosening them, but she only grinned and took a few steps through the corner of the living room before entering her bedroom. 

The sound of Ben stumbling against something reached her in the bedroom, but she only grinned, assuming nothing was broken, either her belongings or Ben’s person. She opened the top drawer of her bedside table—condoms and lube in easy reach, vibrator tucked to the back behind some lingerie, and nothing visible to scandalize a sweet undergrad. (That’s what the bedside table in John’s apartment in the city was for.) She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her damp socks, and just as she finished draping them over the side of her laundry basket, Ben finally entered.

He had also stripped off his socks with his shoes, along with his sweater. All he still wore were his unbelievably tight jeans and a gray t-shirt with a faded logo she couldn’t read in the faint glow of the nightlight. She thought about turning on her bedside lamp so she might see Ben in all of his glory, but she thought he seemed the type to grow uncomfortable with too much light. However, he did have enough self-possession to walk straight toward her and embrace her fiercely, kissing her with the same kind of focused passion he had for his research. Heaven help her, but she liked it, quite a bit, and she couldn’t ignore how wet she continued to grow as he ran a hand over her ass.

It was time. When he had taken her in his arms, her own had instinctively circled his waist, but she moved them now so she could undo his jeans. His breath hitched in her mouth when she opened the button and pulled down the zipper, but before she could push his jeans and boxers over his hips, he shoved his hands under her shirt. She had no desire to fight him, so she stepped back half a pace so he could pull her shirt over her head. She stepped back another half a pace so he could properly appreciate the black lacy bra she had specifically worn for this precise moment.

Unsurprisingly, his mouth went straight to the top of her right breast while his thumb rubbed through the fabric to get at the nipple of her left. He was anxious and inelegant, and she liked it all just the same, so much so she desperately wanted to get him the hell out of his jeans, to feel what was inside, to see if her expectations would be met. So she fought to get her fingers in his waistband, but he was every bit as intent on her breasts, and they worked passionately at cross purposes for several seconds until she finally had his jeans and boxers down far enough she could get his cock in her hand. It was thick and long, but not too much of either, and she smeared his precum all over the tip as she moaned against his shoulder and he sucked her breast. 

Ben had appreciated her bra as much as anyone might in the situation, and decided that it was time for it to go. With a quick snap, he had the clasp open and the straps off her shoulders. But rather than going straight for them with his mouth as she had expected, he kissed her mouth fiercely, moving their bodies as closely together as he might and undo her own jeans. She loved the feel of him everywhere they touched—mouths, chests, her hand on his cock, his hands pushing against her jeans—and if that were the case, how much better would it feel to have him inside her?

She thought she may have actually whimpered, but Ben didn’t seem to care or notice, his focus on pushing her now open jeans down to the floor. Sadly, he took her panties in the same movement, and he would likely never know that they matched the bra he had seemed so fond of. She stepped free of her clothes, and Ben finally did the same as well, leaving only his t-shirt, which she had flung over his head quickly enough. He tried to come for her again, but she held up a hand to stop him and stepped back a few feet until her calves hit the edge of the bed.

“You look better naked than I had even guessed,” she smiled, wishing she had risked a little more light to fully appreciate the lines and contours of his body.

“I suspected you would look perfect,” he answered. “I just hadn’t realized perfection was this good.”

“Oh, you are a charmer. Condoms are in the top drawer. Now get over here.”

He didn’t hesitate, and in a moment they were in her bed, the length of their naked bodies pressed together, mouths open to each other, hands roaming. Ben pushed a finger inside her, and she wiggled and moaned, wanting more from him. He gave it to her—a second finger, and he worked them hard in and out, fucking her now with his fingers just how she hoped her would fuck her soon with his cock. She gripped his hair tight in her fist and sucked on his neck, reveling in the sensation of what he was doing to her body.

“I believe I said I’d do whatever you wanted,” he panted in her ear. “I am at your service.”

“I should think so.” They both hummed with lust and warmth, and there were any number of things she would like Ben to do to her, but at least for now, she should probably keep things straightforward. Not that she expected anything but pleasure from Ben in this. She pulled his head back so she might look him in the eye. “I want you to fuck me, Ben.”

He nearly swallowed her with his answering kiss as he rolled on top of her and positioned himself between her legs. He thrust himself against her a few times, but with real reluctance, he pulled out of their kiss and sat back on his haunches so he could put on one of the condoms from her dresser drawer. She watched, taking the opportunity to soak in more of his glorious body with her eyes. Yes, she was very much looking forward to this.

Peggy always relished the moment of initial insertion, and when Ben lowered himself and with his trembling hand guided his cock inside her, she gasped with joy. He felt as good as she had anticipated, deep inside her, now she just needed him to move as perfectly. Not that she didn’t trust him to know how to fuck, she wanted to take no chances (and she longed to sink her fingers into his round ass), so she guided him with firm hands on his behind, setting the pace. He leaned over her, kissing through panting lips, thrusting in and out of her. It was glorious, but she could sense his excitement in spite of the amount of scotch she had given him, and she didn’t want this over quite yet.

She smacked his ass, and he yelped, but the sly look he gave her let her know she hadn’t misstepped or crossed a line. “Side,” she said, scooting to her left and pointedly looking at her right where she wished him to move. He followed this order admirably, and just as quickly caught her desire when she very deliberately pushed his middle finger to her clit. Bastard turned out to be just as good at this as everything else she had ever witnessed him attempt, and she found herself not only hoping he could be convinced to go to Columbia but might be interested in the occasional threesome.

“That feels so fucking good,” she moaned against his lips.  

“I told you I was at your service.”

She threw her head back and moaned and just enjoyed the sensation for several minutes while she writhed against him. When she felt herself getting close, she reached down and found his cock as hard and ready as it had been when she’d last held it. Pushing him onto his back, Peggy straddled Ben, and bright boy that he was, he steadied his cock and they slipped right back together.

He felt fucking even more amazing inside her like this, and she rocked her hips back and forth, soaking in the tingle building in her. But she needed more. Ben had both of his hands on her breasts, and as delightful as a pinch to her nipples might be at this moment, she needed help focusing on what was happening between her legs. She pulled his right hand free with her left and used him as leverage to grind harder against him. To help her more, he dropped his other hand to her hip, and thrust with her. It was so good and she was so close, and she leaned down, digging the nails of her free hand into his chest. She threw her head back, and in another moment, they were both coming.

Peggy sagged on top of Ben, both of them panting and sweaty. She supposed she would need to move at some point, but Ben didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, and she certainly found the position entirely acceptable. Ben stroked her hair, and she kissed his shoulder.

“Was that the sort of thing you were hoping for?” he whispered before kissing her temple.

She chuckled, her body shaking and reminding her that he was still inside her. “If you have to ask, it really has been awhile since you’ve been with a woman.”

He hugged her tight and then released her, and she sighed and rolled off him while he threw the condom away. “I just wanted to make sure, because I’m willing to try again.”

She rested her chin on his chest as he embraced her, his fingers tracing down her spine to the cleft of her ass. “Mmm. Really? We might have to look into that.” But then she remembered she had a train to catch early in the morning to the city and John. “But not tonight. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Ben’s hand cupped her behind. “You don’t need sleep.”

“All of this doesn’t happen by accident, you know,” she said gesturing at her body, which she actually did very little to maintain. “No, I need my beauty sleep. But let me go get you that book.”

She had to climb over him to get out of bed, and he tried to hold her in the bed, but not seriously, and she easily slipped through his hands. The book was out in the living area, so she threw a silky little blue bathrobe around her that had been a gift from John for her birthday. She didn’t want to turn on any lights, and she thought she could see well enough with the streetlights coming through her window. It wasn’t in the first pile next to her desk that she tried, but it was at the bottom of the second. She turned to take it back into the bedroom, but Ben was already mostly dressed and standing in the doorway.

“You don’t have to runaway right now,” she said, swinging her hips as she walked over to him. “At least stay and have a smoke with me.”

“There’s no smoking in campus housing.”

“The administration can pry my postcoital smoke from my cold, dead hand.”

He smiled and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe some other time.” He took the book from her hand and examined it for a moment as though wondering if it had all been worth it to gain such an item. Well, this was certainly not going the way she had hoped. “Thanks for this.”

Peggy stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the mouth. “You’re most welcome for everything.” And then she kissed him passionately until he had his arms around her pressing their bodies together once more.

But then Ben let her go and jumped away as though she were on fire. “No. If I’m going to go and let you get to sleep, we better not do that.” He bent down to tug on his socks, which must still be miserably damp, and his shoes.

She waited for him politely, and this time when he straightened up, she just kissed him on the cheek and led him toward the door. “Have a good break, Ben. When you’re in the city, say hello to Columbia for me.”

“Won’t you be in the city for break?”

She gasped and put her hand over her gaping mouth. “I supposed I will! Maybe I’ll see you around the campus then.”

“Arnold is right,” Ben laughed. “You really are zealous, aren’t you?”

“You’ve no idea the half of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was working on my first Turn fic and asking my hubby questions about Yale, since he went there in the mid 90s. He started telling me lots of fun things, and I realized that I really ought to write Turn College AU. So, this is a set up story to the main event, a long, multi-chapter Benwash fic I have outlined, and there might be more short prequel fics as well, but for now, I thought I'd share this one.
> 
> Oh, and even though my hubby was a great technical adviser on this, any mistakes are my own.


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